This may take up to thirty seconds.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
I dreaded passover growing up. It seemed boring and oppressive and... dreadful with the emphasis on DREAD. I never really named it, but felt somewhere in my hungry gut that this wasn't a great place to be...my grandparents’ overheated undersized apartment in Queens, with these flat books in our hands, these hollow songs, this jelly on my fish.
A couple of years ago I was at a workshop called L'dor V'dor (generation to generation) and I thought about Pesach from my grandparents’ perspective for the first time.
They both came to the US from Vienna in the late 30's, in what would have been their university years. They both lost many family members in the Holocaust; my grandma lost both of her parents in concentration camps.
I got a picture in my head of my grandpa Joe, a 25-year-old newlywed in a new country, New York City (well, it was Jersey actually), getting settled in what would be his lifelong career as a garment cutter - this shy, hopeful, sad young man, this new husband and new dad and recent immigrant and non-english speaker (the guy still sounds like he hasn't been off the boat for long). This guy leading the seder cause nobody else made it and he and my grandma were basically orphaned. Grandma Ruth, leaving Vienna at 17 in a rush, no time to take the recipes she was too young to have really learned, in their ample and loving home where she, the youngest child, hoped to be a doctor and spent her time studying and playing with friends.
Cut to New York. Long gone the lush days of Vienna, or the simple comforts of home and family and the Haggadah they knew, recipes from many generations, the Seder plate and the cousins, and maybe Bubbe cooking and Zadie leading. Here they are, doing their own Seder in their apartment with their two little boys who would grow up to be absolute New Yorkers who don't know any German and, strangely enough, don't identify with Judaism, don't cherish and nourish traditions. These two sons who dread the seder, go only out of a sense of duty and, I think, knowing how dreadful it feels, are too pained to imagine my grandparents going through the motions alone.
Once I imagined the pain or the numbness they must have had around the seder, I was able to wrestle it back. Now I cherish the chance to celebrate with people that I love, to make food, to study the story and seek for application in my life and our world. I cherish the chance to honor Ruth and Joe and their amazing parents and struggles and sacrifices, and consider it my joyous duty to acknowledge, feel and someday move beyond, the sadness that encompassed them.
L'chaim, Leah
When Passover gets closer every year I never think much of it. I just think about spending time with my family, eating during and after the sedar. As said in this clip the person that wrote it states that she also never thought about Passover until she realized that her family connects with Pesach.
The Hebrew word “Kiddush” means sanctification. But it is not the wine we sanctify. Instead, the wine is a symbol of the sanctity, the preciousness, and the sweetness of this moment. Held together by sacred bonds of family, friendship, peoplehood, we share this table tonight with one another and with all the generations who have come before us. Let us rise, and sanctify this singular moment.
HOW? We will drink four cups of wine at the Seder in celebration of our freedom. (Grape juice is fine too.) We stand, recite the blessing, and enjoy the first cup. L'chaim!
The blessing praises God for creating the "fruit of the vine." We recite the blessing, not over the whole grape, but over wine — squeezed and fermented through human skill. So, too, the motzee blessing is recited not over sheaves of wheat but over bread, leavened or unleavened, ground and kneaded and prepared by human hands. The blessing is over the product cultivated through human and divine cooperation: We bless the gifts of sun, seed and soil transformed by wisdom and purpose to sustain the body and rejoice the soul.
Baruch ata Adonai, Elohaynoo melech ha-olam, boray pree ha-gafen. Baruch atah Adonai, Elohynoo melech ha- olam, asher bachar banoo meekol am, v’romemanoo meekol lashon, v’keedshanoo b’meetzvotav. Va’teetayn lanoo Adonai Elohaynoo b’bahava, mo’adeem lsimcha, chageem oo-z’maneem l’sason. Et yom chag ha-matzot ha-zeh,
z’man chayrootaynoo, meekra kodesh, zecher leetzeeyat Meetzrayeem. Kee vanoo vacharta, v’otanoo keed- ashta meekol ha- ameem. Oo’mo’adday kodsheh’cha b’seemcha oo-v’sason heen’chaltanoo. Barcuch ata Adonai m’kadesh Yisrael v’ha-z’maneem.
Praised are You, Lord our God, Whose presence fills the universe. Who creates the fruit of the vine. Praised are You, Lord our God, Whose presence fills the universe, Who has called us for service
from among the peoples of the world, sanctifying our lives with Your commandments. In love, You have given us festivals for rejoicing and seasons of celebration, this Festival of Matzot, the time of our freedom, a commemoration of the Exodus from Egypt. Praised are You, Lord, Who gave us this joyful heritage and Who sanctifies Israel and the festivals.
Baruch ata Adonai, Elohaynoo melech ha-olam, sheh’hech’eeyanoo v’’keeyemanoo, v’heegeeanoo la-z’man ha-zeh.
Praised are You, Lord, our God, Whose presence fills the universe, Who has given us the gifts of life and strength and enabled us to reach this moment of joy.
The making of the Kedesh is important because in this clip it says that it is a cup of wine is a symbol of sanctity. When people drink the wine we aren't drinking it for sanctity the wine is a symbol of it.
Together as we wash our hands, they move into the bowl of water, and back out of the water. Why do we do this? Are our hands really getting clean without soap? We won’t be eating for some time, why do we do this so early?
The washing of our hands suggests that we are open to question. One question that is always asked is about hope.
Rick Recht answers in his song:
This is the hope that holds us together, Hatikvah, the hope that will last forever, the hope is still real.
From the Diaspora, to the exodus, to the holocaust, to war, to independence, to more wars, to threats, bombing, and peace, Israelis never give up hope. We are strong people because we have hope. And the hope holds us together. That’s why the Israeli National Anthem is Hatikvah, because that means hope.
This clip grabbed my attention because the questions that they wrote are exactly what I would ask myself. I would never ask my parents because I was embarrassed to ask. I would tell myself that I should know why we do it. Learning about Urchatz and why we wash our hands with water before answering all my questions.
When we left Egypt,
we bloomed and sprouted,
and songs dripped from our tongues
like shimmering threads of nectar.
All green with life we grew,
who had been buried,
under toil and sorrow,
dense as bricks.
All green in the desert we grew,
casting seeds at a promise.
All green we grew.
This clip to me explains the whole aspect of the dipping of Karpas. When I was younger I would wonder why do we dip celery in salt water? Who would want to eat that? But no I feel like the meaning of it is deeper than the dipping of salt water.
There are three pieces of matzah stacked on the table. We now break the middle matzah into two pieces. The host should wrap up the larger of the pieces and, at some point between now and the end of dinner, hide it. This piece is called the afikomen, literally “dessert” in Greek. After dinner, the guests will have to hunt for the afikomen in order to wrap up the meal… and win a prize.
We eat matzah in memory of the quick flight of our ancestors from Egypt. As slaves, they had faced many false starts before finally being let go. So when the word of their freedom came, they took whatever dough they had and ran with it before it had the chance to rise, leaving it looking something like matzah.
Uncover and hold up the three pieces of matzah and say:
This is the bread of poverty which our ancestors ate in the land of Egypt. All who are hungry, come and eat; all who are needy, come and celebrate Passover with us. This year we are here; next year we will be in Israel. This year we are slaves; next year we will be free.
These days, matzah is a special food and we look forward to eating it on Passover. Imagine eating only matzah, or being one of the countless people around the world who don’t have enough to eat.
What does the symbol of matzah say to us about oppression in the world, both people literally enslaved and the many ways in which each of us is held down by forces beyond our control? How does this resonate with events happening now?
For the 14 years I have been on this earth and the years that I understood that I had to find the Afikomen, they have always been so much fun. The only sad part is that I would never find it. My sister would get to it before me. When reading this clip the memories of looking for it came back to my brain.
After the Afikomen, the story of Pesach was told. The story never interested me but the more I understood it the more attention I would show to whoever was telling it.
The formal telling of the story of Passover is framed as a discussion with lots of questions and answers. The tradition that the youngest person asks the questions reflects the centrality of involving everyone in the seder. The rabbis who created the set format for the seder gave us the Four Questions to help break the ice in case no one had their own questions. Asking questions is a core tradition in Jewish life. If everyone at your seder is around the same age, perhaps the person with the least seder experience can ask them – or everyone can sing them all together.
מַה נִּשְׁתַּנָּה הַלַּֽיְלָה הַזֶּה מִכָּל הַלֵּילות
Ma nishtana halaila hazeh mikol haleilot?
Why is this night different from all other nights?
שֶׁבְּכָל הַלֵּילוֹת אָֽנוּ אוֹכלין חָמֵץ וּמַצָּה הַלַּֽיְלָה הַזֶּה כֻּלּוֹ מצה
Shebichol haleilot anu ochlin chameitz u-matzah. Halaila hazeh kulo matzah.
On all other nights we eat both leavened bread and matzah.
Tonight we only eat matzah.
שֶׁבְּכָל הַלֵּילוֹת אָֽנוּ אוֹכְלִין שְׁאָר יְרָקוֹת הַלַּֽיְלָה הַזֶּה מָרוֹר
Shebichol haleilot anu ochlin shi’ar yirakot haleila hazeh maror.
On all other nights we eat all kinds of vegetables,
but tonight we eat bitter herbs.
שֶׁבְּכָל הַלֵּילוֹת אֵין אָֽנוּ מַטְבִּילִין אֲפִילוּ פַּֽעַם אחָת הַלַּֽיְלָה הַזֶּה שְׁתֵּי פְעמים
Shebichol haleilot ain anu matbilin afilu pa-am echat. Halaila hazeh shtei fi-amim.
On all other nights we aren’t expected to dip our vegetables one time.
Tonight we do it twice.
שֶׁבְּכָל הַלֵּילוֹת אָֽנוּ אוֹכְלִין בֵּין יוֹשְׁבִין וּבֵין מְסֻבִּין. :הַלַּֽיְלָה הַזֶּה כֻּלָּֽנוּ מְסֻבין
Shebichol haleilot anu ochlin bein yoshvin uvein m’subin. Halaila hazeh kulanu m’subin.
On all other nights we eat either sitting normally or reclining.
Tonight we recline.
The Four Questions really put everyone into thinking. Why do we eat Matzah on this day only? we never dip our herbs, why on this day? On other days we eat other herbs of any kind but not on Pesach, and why do we eat leaning. I would always think to myself these questions are really good questions because of the point they are making.
When learning about the four children everyone is curious about what is so important about them. This is why this clip was chosen to be in my Haggadah. It explains each child so I now know the actual meaning of the Four Children.
Long ago, Pharaoh ruled the land of Egypt. He enslaved the Jewish people and made them work very hard building his cities. song: Bang bang bang Phaoraoh was especially cruel to Jewish children. One mother hid her baby, Moses, in a basket in the river. Pharoah's daughter found him and took him home to live in the palace. Moses grew up. He saw the slaves working so hard. He had a fight about it and ran away to be a shepherd. While he was looking after the sheep, he saw a bush on fire that did not burn up and heard God's voice telling him to go back to Egypt, to tell Pharoah to let the Jewish people go. Song: when Israel was in Egypt land When Moses went to Pharoah, he said "Let my people go". Pharaoh said "No". So, God sent the 1st plague -Blood. Moses went to Pharoah. He said, "Let my people go". Pharaoh said "No". So, God sent the 2nd plague - Frogs. Moses went to Pharoah. He said, "Let my people go". Pharoah said, "No". Song: One morning when Pharoah woke in his bed The 3rd plague was Lice. Moses went to Pharoah. He said, "Let my people go". Pharaoh said, "No". The 4th plague was Wild Beasts. Moses went to Pharoah. He said, "Let my people go". Pharoah said, "No". The 5th plague was Cattle Disease. Moses went to Pharoah. He said, "Let my people go". Pharoah said, "No". The 6th plague was Boils. Moses went to Pharoah. He said "Let my people go". Pharaoh said," No". The 7th plague was Hail stones. Moses went to Pharoah. He said, "Let my people go". Pharoah said, "No". The 8th plague was Locusts. Moses went to Pharoah. He said, "Let my people go". Pharaoh said, "No". The 9th plague was Darkness. Moses went to Pharoah. He said, "Let my people go". Pharoah said, "No". The last plague was Death. Pharoah said "Yes" song: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 plagues in Egypt's land The people got ready to leave very quickly, so quickly that their bread didn't have time to rise; it baked into matzah. They walked through the desert to the sea. Pharoah's soldiers chased after them. When they got to the sea, Moses held up his his staff and the sea divided. The Jewish people walked through the sea to freedom and a new future.
This clip spoke a little bit about the story and the song that has to do with it. I think the mentioning of the song and the meaning of it, how the Jews were being treated by the Pharoah is important for the younger audience to know.
As we rejoice at our deliverance from slavery, we acknowledge that our freedom was hard-earned. We regret that our freedom came at the cost of the Egyptians’ suffering, for we are all human beings. We pour out a drop of wine for each of the plagues as we recite them to signify having a little less sweetness in our celebration. Dip a finger or a spoon into your wine glass for a drop for each plague.
These are the ten plagues:
BLOOD / dam
FROGS / tzfardeiya
LICE / kinim
BEASTS / arov
CATTLE DISEASE / dever
BOILS / sh’chin
HAIL / barad
LOCUSTS / arbeh
DARKNESS / choshech
DEATH OF THE FIRSTBORN / makat b’chorot
Even though we are happy that the jews escaped slavery, let us once more take a drop of wine as we together recite the names of these modern plagues:
HUNGER
WAR
TERRORISM
GREED
BIGOTRY
INJUSTICE
POVERTY
IGNORANCE
POLLUTION OF THE EARTH
INDIFFERENCE TO SUFFERING
Most people that hear about the ten plagues don't think deeply about it. They just know that it's 10 bad things that happened during Pesach, This clip explains what they actually mean.
One of most beloved songs in the Passover seder is "Dayenu". A few of us will read the stanzas one at a time, and the everyone else will respond, "Dayenu" – meaning, “it would have been enough”.
How many times do we forget to pause and notice that where we are is exactly where we ought to be? Dayenu is a reminder to never forget all the miracles in our lives. When we stand and wait impatiently for the next one to appear, we are missing the whole point of life. Instead, we can actively seek a new reason to be grateful, a reason to say “Dayenu.”
Fun fact: Persian and Afghani Jews hit each other over the heads and shoulders with scallions every time they say Dayenu! They especially use the scallions in the ninth stanza which mentions the manna that the Israelites ate everyday in the desert, because Torah tells us that the Israelites began to complain about the manna and longed for the onions, leeks and garlic. Feel free to be Persian/Afghani for the evening if you’d like.
| English translation | Hebrew | |
| Ilu hotzianu mimitzrayim, | אִלּוּ הוֹצִיאָנוּ מִמִּצְרָיִם | |
| and had not carried out judgments against them | v'lo asah bahem sh'fatim, | וְלֹא עָשָׂה בָּהֶם שְׁפָטִים |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
| If He had carried out judgments against them, | Ilu asah bahem sh'fatim | אִלּוּ עָשָׂה בָּהֶם שְׁפָטִים |
| and not against their idols | v'lo asah beloheihem, | וְלֹא עָשָׂה בֵּאלֹהֵיהֶם |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
| If He had destroyed their idols, | Ilu asah beloheihem, | אִלּוּ עָשָׂה בֵּאלֹהֵיהֶם |
| and had not smitten their first-born | v'lo harag et b'choreihem, | וְלֹא הָרַג אֶת בְּכוֹרֵיהֶם |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
| If He had smitten their first-born, | Ilu harag et b'choreihem, | אִלּוּ הָרַג אֶת בְּכוֹרֵיהֶם |
| and had not given us their wealth | v'lo natan lanu et mamonam, | וְלֹא נָתַן לָנוּ אֶת מָמוֹנָם |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
| If He had given us their wealth, | Ilu natan lanu et mamonam, | אִלּוּ נָתַן לָנוּ אֶת מָמוֹנָם |
| and had not split the sea for us | v'lo kara lanu et hayam, | ןלא קָרַע לָנוּ אֶת הַיָּם |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
| If He had split the sea for us, | Ilu kara lanu et hayam, | אִלּוּ קָרַע לָנוּ אֶת הַיָּם |
| and had not taken us through it on dry land | v'lo he'eviranu b'tocho becharavah, | וְלֹא הֶעֱבִירָנוּ בְּתוֹכוֹ בֶּחָרָבָה |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
| If He had taken us through the sea on dry land, | Ilu he'eviranu b'tocho becharavah, | אִלּוּ הֶעֱבִירָנוּ בְּתוֹכוֹ בֶּחָרָבָה |
| and had not drowned our oppressors in it | v'lo shika tzareinu b'tocho, | וְלֹא שִׁקַע צָרֵינוּ בְּתוֹכוֹ |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
| If He had drowned our oppressors in it, | Ilu shika tzareinu b'tocho, | אִלּוּ שִׁקַע צָרֵינוּ בְּתוֹכוֹ |
| and had not supplied our needs in the desert for forty years | v'lo sipeik tzorkeinu bamidbar arba'im shana, | וְלֹא סִפֵּק צָרַכֵּנוּ בַּמִּדְבָּר אַרְבָּעִים שָׁנָה |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
| If He had supplied our needs in the desert for forty years, | Ilu sipeik tzorkeinu bamidbar arba'im shana, | אִלּוּ סִפֵּק צָרַכֵּנוּ בַּמִּדְבָּר אַרְבָּעִים שָׁנָה |
| and had not fed us the manna | v'lo he'echilanu et haman, | וְלֹא הֶאֱכִילָנוּ אֶת הַמָּן |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
| If He had fed us the manna, | Ilu he'echilanu et haman, | אִלּוּ הֶאֱכִילָנוּ אֶת הַמָּן |
| and had not given us the Shabbat | v'lo natan lanu et hashabbat, | וְלֹא נָתַן לָנוּ אֶת הַשַּׁבָּת |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
| If He had given us the Shabbat, | Ilu natan lanu et hashabbat, | אִלּוּ נָתַן לָנוּ אֶת הַשַּׁבָּת |
| and had not brought us before Mount Sinai | v'lo keirvanu lifnei har sinai, | וְלֹא קֵרְבָנוּ לִפְנֵי הַר סִינַי |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
| If He had brought us before Mount Sinai, | Ilu keirvanu lifnei har sinai, | אִלּוּ קֵרְבָנוּ לִפְנֵי הַר סִינַי |
| and had not given us the Torah | v'lo natan lanu et hatorah, | וְלֹא נָתַן לָנוּ אֶת הַתּוֹרָה |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
| If He had given us the Torah, | Ilu natan lanu et hatorah, | אִלּוּ נָתַן לָנוּ אֶת הַתּוֹרָה |
| and had not brought us into the land of Israel | v'lo hichnisanu l'eretz yisra'eil, | וְלֹא הִכְנִיסָנוּ לְאֶרֶץ יִשְׂרָאֵל |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
| If He had brought us into the land of Israel, | Ilu hichnisanu l'eretz yisra'eil, | אִלּוּ הִכְנִיסָנוּ לְאֶרֶץ יִשְׂרָאֵל |
| and not built for us the Holy Temple | v'lo vanah lanu et beit hamikdash, | וְלֹא בָּנָה לָנוּ אֶת בֵּית הַמִּקְדָּשׁ |
| — Dayenu, it would have been enough! | dayeinu! | דַּיֵּנוּ |
During Passover, it is important to have a song that means something that has to do with what you are celebrating. Dayenu is the song for this.
--Rabbi Menachem Creditor, Congregation Netivot Shalom, Berkeley, CA
Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha’olam, asher kidshanu bemitvotav vetzivanu al netilat yadayim.
בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה' אֱלֹֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶך הָעוֹלָם אֲשֶׁר קִדְּשָׁנוּ בְּמִצְוֹתָיו וְצִוָּנוּ עַל נְטִילַת יָדָיִּם.
Blessed are You ETERNAL our God, Master of time and space, who has sanctified us with commandments and instructed us regarding lifting up our hands.
Rachtzah is like Urchatz but with a deeper meanign. Rachzah is when we wash out hands and appreciate the liberation of the Jews.
Time to eat matzah. As each of you breaks off four pieces of matzah for your plate, ponder this:
Matzah is literally free of all additives, externalities and superficial good looks -- it is bread without the hot air. It represents the bare essentials.
Everything we pursue in life can be divided into necessities and luxuries. To the extent that a luxury becomes a necessity we lose an element of our freedom by being enslaved to a false need.
On Passover we can focus on the essence and leave the externalities behind.
Now, take one of the pieces of matzah and say:
Baruch ata Adonai Elohinu melech ha'olam hamotzi lechem min ha'aretz.
Which means:
We bless you, Lord our God, God of the world, who brings forth bread from the land.
And add:
Baruch ata Adonai Eloheinu melech ha'olam asher kidshanu b'mitzvotav v'ztivanu al achilat matzah.
Which means:
We bless you, Lord our God, God of the world, who has sanctified us with commandments and commanded us concerning the eating of matzah.
Eat the piece of matzah.
When Pesach has finally come, I feel that for the part of the seder called Motzi Matzah everyone does not know what to do. I can relate because half of the time during the seder I always look to my Grandpa and ask him and he tells me how to break it and the blessing.
Dipping the bitter herb in sweet charoset | maror |מָרוֹר
In creating a holiday about the joy of freedom, we turn the story of our bitter history into a sweet celebration. We recognize this by dipping our bitter herbs into the sweet charoset. We don’t totally eradicate the taste of the bitter with the taste of the sweet… but doesn’t the sweet mean more when it’s layered over the bitterness?
בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ מֶֽלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, אֲשֶׁר קִדְּשָֽׁנוּ בְּמִצְוֹתָיו וְצִוָּֽנוּ עַל אֲכִילַת מרוֹר
Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu al achilat maror.
We praise God, Ruler of Everything, who made us holy through obligations, commanding us to eat bitter herbs.
In this clip, the speaker made a good point. On Pesach when you eat the bitter herb you want to eat something sweet. Instead of eating something sweet, you fill the night with a sweet celebration. I think this is so important because this has to do joy and freedom of Passover and when the Jews were liberated.
Eating a sandwich of matzah and bitter herb | koreich | כּוֹרֵךְ
When the Temple stood in Jerusalem, the biggest ritual of them all was eating the lamb offered as the pesach or Passover sacrifice. The great sage Hillel would put the meat in a sandwich made of matzah, along with some of the bitter herbs. While we do not make sacrifices any more – and, in fact, some Jews have a custom of purposely avoiding lamb during the seder so that it is not mistaken as a sacrifice – we honor this custom by eating a sandwich of the remaining matzah and bitter herbs. Some people will also include charoset in the sandwich to remind us that God’s kindness helped relieve the bitterness of slavery.
This clip reminds me of the times when your family has a family tradition of making something. The reason this reminds me of it is that they are making a sandwich with everything, and I have never heard of someone doing this.
It was the custom of ancient royalty to recline on the left for two reasons:
a) Food is normally held in the right hand. Leaning toward the left leaves the right hand free.
b) Leaning on the right is a choking hazard. It can prevent the epiglottis from covering the trachea, allowing food to enter and stop the flow of oxygen.
So as we sit here in the Hebrew year of 5775 in Eretz Hakodesh as a free nation,we act in the same manner as that of Kings. We are fortunate enough to have the opportunity to dwell and rejoice in the holy land, a dream many Jewish Kings were unable to fulfil. Make the most of it you Melachim!!
GREEK FOR DESSERT
Enjoy something sweet. Then, after you’ve eaten all you can eat, eat a small piece of the Afikoman (remember when we created it earlier?) – it’s traditionally the last thing we eat at a Seder, and a cash prize is given to the finder of the Afikoman.* This year, discuss among your FriendsederTM guests how much prize money you would give to the Afikoman- finder and choose a charity to donate the prize money to!
*A prize is a slick reframe for ‘ransom money.’ Because the seder can’t be completed until the Afikoman is returned to its partner-matzah, Afikoman-finders have the leverage to charge the Seder leader for a bigger allowance to get it back!**
**Though in family settings, seder-leaders usually have extra leverage to dictate bedtimes – so watch out you Afikoman- finders!
Tzafun has to do with the Afikomen but the main point of it is to end the seder with a sweet ending. I personally like Pesach because most of Pesach has to do with ending with something sweet.
Refill everyone’s wine glass.
We now say grace after the meal, thanking God for the food we’ve eaten. On Passover, this becomes something like an extended toast to God, culminating with drinking our third glass of wine for the evening:
We praise God, Ruler of Everything, whose goodness sustains the world. You are the origin of love and compassion, the source of bread for all. Thanks to You, we need never lack for food; You provide food enough for everyone. We praise God, source of food for everyone.
As it says in the Torah: When you have eaten and are satisfied, give praise to your God who has given you this good earth. We praise God for the earth and for its sustenance.
Renew our spiritual center in our time. We praise God, who centers us.
May the source of peace grant peace to us, to the Jewish people, and to the entire world. Amen.
The Third Glass of Wine
The blessing over the meal is immediately followed by another blessing over the wine:
בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הַגָּפֶן
Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, borei p’ree hagafen.
We praise God, Ruler of Everything, who creates the fruit of the vine.
Drink the third glass of wine!
Saying thank you to Hashem before or after eating is important. There are blessings you say before certain things you are eating. Bereich is the blessing you say after your meal on Pesach. I would always say it with my family. My dad would always tell me "just say the blessing it's a few words" and I would and I am happy I listened.
Barukh atah Adonai, Eloheinu melekh ha'olam, borei pri ha'gafen.
At the beginning of the Seder we open the door for our Prophet Elijah, and now we are pouring a glass of wine for him. This shows the gratitude we have for him.
But Jerusalem is more than a place, it is a feeling, it is a hope. At this point in the seder, 1/2 or 1/4 sheets of paper should be passed around to each participant, along with an envelope and writing utensil. Folks are invited to write a brief note to their future selves inspired by "next year in Jerusalem." As metaphor: what is our own personal Jerusalem where we hope to see ourselves a year from now?
Everyone seals and addresses their envelope to themselves, and the seder leader, or whoever is leading this exercise takes responsibility for keeping the notes all year and mailing them the following Pesach season.
This exercise can be done formally when everyone sits down to dessert or it can be introduced when the break for the meal happens and people can elect to write the notes at their leisure.
I often have a basket out for people to drop their notes in.
I think a good ending to something is always the best. In this clip it says that Nirtzah is a time for someone to write something on a piece of paper for their future self. This idea was inspired b the next year in Jerusalem.
Dayenn is the main song that I sing on Passover. The reason for this is that I feel as if there is a deeper meaning to it compared to others. The word itself essentially means "It would have been enough for us." "Day"
